


Multiplicity

by Rudolf Loewe (Rudolflioness)



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Drabble Collection, Gen, im kidding but there will be "cannibalism" mentions or jokes so fair warning, maybe youll see some cannibalism thats always fun, or at least for now anyway, otherwise this will be fairly safe at least for the beginning, self-indulgent exploration of mental illness headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-05-16 22:58:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5844265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rudolflioness/pseuds/Rudolf%20Loewe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaneki had known something was wrong when he first saw her after she'd died. But he'd never considered that she might be living in his head, and especially not that there was a psychological term and diagnostic criteria for it. He'd inherited more than just the hunger of Rize Kamishiro; he'd inherited what may as well be her very consciousness.<br/>"Multiplicity" explores the personal headcanon that Kaneki Ken has Dissociative Identity Disorder.<br/>DISCLAIMER: "Multiplicity" deals with the subject of mental illness, and is written and edited by those with those mental illnesses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Diagnosis

One time was one too much. The loss of control was unsettling, a bad sign. But twice? Twice was out of control. And twice demanded answers.

 

Kaneki had been this way ever since the accident, but he'd found many ways to explain it away to himself. The impulses? Just a survival mechanism. He needed to eat, after all. Instincts would kick in if he were in danger, he’d fight his way out. It's not like anyone ever taught a ghoul how to use their kagune, anyway, right? Surely that was normal for a hungry ghoul to just _act_ without much thought. The images he saw of her, darting from the corners of his vision, fleeting visions of her beside him? Hearing her voice at times? Distorted flashbacks due to traumatic experience. Nearly getting killed and eaten while on a date by the very girl you were trying to court, and then having your entire lifestyle altered because of it, could do that to someone. He was seeing things, he was just overreacting. He was in distress, he was in a whole new situation, and he was freaking out. He just needed to calm down.

Only that didn't do anything. She was still there.

He'd felt her grasp on him before. It was the only way he could describe the situation with Hide in the alleyway. It was like he was a puppet on strings. He knew he was aware, but he wasn't in control, as if he were watching a video. After, he found himself barely able to remember the event at all. It was almost like it was a dream.

But this time was too much. This time he felt like he knew what had happened, but he had no way to describe it. This time, he was just completely gone. He was desperate, and the first thought that came to his mind was to ask for help. And he asked for help from the only other person he thought could be there. He asked for help from the wrong person entirely. It felt like he'd passed out, if only for a moment, looking out over the railing of the storm drain, fighting with the desperate impulses that tried to make their claim on him. Fighting to ignore her voice. When he next came to… Yomo was in front of him.

And he'd done something awful.

It had been a day since then, and he hadn't really talked to anyone since. Yomo had kept the details about the encounter mostly secret from others. Only thing anyone who saw the bloodied jacket that night needed to know was Yomo had gotten hurt in an encounter involving a dove. Kaneki was grateful for that, at least. But he never got the chance to talk to Yomo, to actually apologize for what happened. He didn't mean to do that. He didn't mean to hurt him.

What exactly had happened, anyway? He'd completely lost it. Control, his senses, his memory… All of it. All of it was lost to the sound of her voice, the brief feeling of a touch on his shoulder, the grip and pull of his wrist. He could've sworn he was _gone_ , but it was his body, his kagune, it was all him and his fault.

He swiped upwards on his phone, scrolling through pages online, trying to find something, anything that might explain what had happened to him. Was he going crazy? Was he being haunted by ghosts?

He’d almost found something that looked almost like an answer when the door to the break room opened. He jumped up from his reclining position to sit at full attention on the couch. His attention shot to the door.

“Didn't mean to scare you,” Yomo said as he walked in, closing the door behind him. He claimed one of the nearby seats as his perch.

Kaneki uneasily observed the man as he produced a small magazine from his coat and took to reading. How could he be so calm right now? Did last night even happen? He leaned back against the couch, holding his phone close to him as he began his search again. After shooting another cautious glance to Yomo, he said, “Hey. About yesterday…”

Yomo looked up from the magazine for a moment. He continued reading as he said, “It’s nothing.”

“I'm really sorry-”

“I said it’s nothing. Don't worry about it, Ken.”

“But it is something! I didn't mean to, but-”

Yomo closed the magazine. “No, you didn't mean to. Because I think that wasn't you,” he said.

Kaneki sat still in shock. “What? How-”

Yomo looked over towards the younger ghoul and explained, “I don't really understand it, but I could tell something was different. Normally I'd just say it was because you were practically starving in the middle of a fight. Use up too much RC when you're already hungry, you get desperate. But that wasn't normal. Your voice changed, you spoke a little higher than normal. Then you acted like you didn't remember it.”

“Because I didn't remember. I don't know what happened to me.”

“Exactly.” Yomo slowly stood and approached Kaneki, going around the couch to stand behind him. He stood silent for a moment, one hand on his chin as he leaned over Kaneki’s shoulder. “Already trying to look for answers too, huh?... That one. Third link down. Click that,” he said, pointing to the small screen.

Hesitantly, Kaneki did so. He glanced over the article carefully. “Dissociative what…?”

“Heard about it on tv once,” Yomo explained. “Dissociative identity. I think it's something along the lines that people can sometimes undergo such serious trauma that their minds split apart, and they subconsciously create a separate persona entirely. And that persona can take over, usually leaving the original person with no memory of what happened. There's other details, but you can glance those over and decide for yourself if that works. I'm just going off of observation. I'm not you, after all.”

Kaneki removed his eyepatch, using both eyes to scan the page for better focus. Yomo returned to his previous spot. “Yomo, this… Honestly, this sounds mostly right, actually. But there's one problem.”

“What's that?”

“I think the… Alter?... I think the alter might be Rize.”

Yomo inhaled slowly and exhaled loudly. “I'm afraid I don't understand.”

“I don't know, but ever since the accident, I've been seeing her. Hearing her. It's like… She's the one telling me to do. And sometimes it feels like she might be the one making me do it.” Kaneki lowered his phone and put his head in his hands. “She's the last thing I really remember before I blacked out last night,” he continued. “I felt like she was there, and called out. It was a mistake, but eventually I couldn't fight it any longer, and I was gone. I don't know how that’d work, but if this is a thing, it's got to be her. She’s… She's inside my head.”

_About time you figured it out._

Kaneki froze. Her voice. That was her voice. _She's not real, she's not real_ , he silently chanted to himself. He really was going crazy, wasn't he? A legitimate mental illness, _and_ Rize haunting him? This was all sorts of fucked up. There was just no way this could be happening to him. He closed his eyes tightly. _Just go AWAY!--_

“Ken, are you listening to me?”

Kaneki jolted upright. “Uh. Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Maybe that's a possible thing that happens, like building a persona based off of whatever caused you trauma, but honestly, if you're convinced it's really her, it could be something of a special occurrence,” Yomo repeated. “You're far from an ordinary case of, well, anything. The same thing that makes you a ghoul could have actually given you her consciousness, too.”

“Maybe…” Kaneki glanced around. _Please don't show up. Not right now._

“... Either way, I'm not your therapist. I'll let you decide exactly how or why this is happening for yourself. But Ken, if you think something like that might happen again, or you need someone to talk to, I'll be here.”

Suddenly it occurred to Kaneki to check the time. “Oh, I should probably get back to work…” He said as he stood up.

“Before you go. I’ll assume you don't want me sharing this with anyone,” Yomo said, picking up his magazine.

“Uh, no,” Kaneki said, forcing a laugh. “I don't think anyone else is going to believe it, anyway.”

Yomo grunted his agreement, and opened his magazine again as Kaneki crossed over to the door. He paused in the doorway and turned his head over his shoulder. “And Yomo?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks. And sorry again.”

“Don't mention it. It's nothing.”

 

* * *

 

 

It had been difficult to find any Japanese personal accounts of the disorder, let alone any mental illness in general (he honestly expected that; Aokigahara was what it was for a reason), but Kaneki had managed to find a few, as well as some western accounts online that were easily translated. He simply thought maybe it would be easier to hear it explained by someone who actually had these alters, voices, what-have-you. And what he found was interesting.

A couple of the people he found that were open about their disorder online were actually okay with it, and some were even friends with their “alters”. They called themselves systems, multiples, and some of them even had some “control” over when someone else took over. They had a whole vocabulary built for themselves, with words like fronting and headmates, guardian and headspace. They kept track of who was who, what “jobs” some alters had in the system, and sometimes even allowed the alters to run their own side-accounts on social media. Kaneki was honestly fascinated with this. It seemed like, maybe, this wasn't so bad after all. Maybe he could live like this, having another person in his head.

There was just one problem.

He couldn't actually be friendly with Rize.

Of course he’d found people that had situations similar to his with at least one of their alters, minus the obvious ghoul context, but Rize was hostile. She was impulsive. Above all else, she was hungry, and she would mow down everyone if given the chance. She would hurt innocent people remorselessly. Unfortunately, that happy ending he saw scattered across the web just wasn't something he could have. He had to find other ways to cope. And he figured the first step was what he had been trying this entire time: repress her and keep her from taking over.

He glanced up at the sky above him on the sidewalk. Sure, his situation wasn't the most positive of the possibilities, but he did feel a lot better knowing that there were others out there. Maybe not ghouls, but it was someone. He’d bookmarked a few of the friendlier resources, and made himself some accounts on their respective media sites so that he could ask questions whenever it crossed his mind. It was a support network. At the same time, however, all of this still bothered him. It scared him. Of all people, he had to be stuck with Rize. Losing control again, especially to her, scared him senseless. It was just one thing after the other… Become a ghoul, find out you're a system… Nothing ever seemed to work out in Kaneki's favor. Nothing ever seemed to decide to make his life easier.

He stopped in front of a bookstore. He’d finished his last book, and as much as he loved _The Black Goat’s Egg_ , the book he always reread when he finished the others, he couldn't read it anymore. He kept it on the shelf, unable to open it since the accident. It just reminded him of that shitty day a little too much. He needed something new. Honestly, as silly as it sounded, he’d actually considered buying a light-hearted manga to replace it as his back-up book. He could use something silly in his life. But while browsing through them, he couldn't seem to find anything that actually interested him.

_What about that one?_

He froze. Was that…?

_Hey, easy, Kaneki, it was just a suggestion._

“Rize?” Kaneki breathed. He was glad the bookstore was relatively empty. He didn't want someone to look at him and see the fear on his face, especially not when he was putting away a fucking shojo manga.

_Well aren't you as bright as ever. Yeah, it's me. Obviously._

Kaneki glanced around, and paused before responding. “Why this one?” he asked, removing a book from the shelf. Rize seemed calm for once… Maybe she was a bit snappy, but it was almost like it was the first day they'd met again.

 _It just had a pretty spine._ Kaneki flipped the book to glance at both covers. Well, that was horrific. Giant people-eating “people” in a post-apocalyptic world. Why were the muscles on that one showing?? He put it back.

 _Hmpf. Okay, what about that one?_ Rize suggested once more. Kaneki plucked the book from the shelf and flipped it over. Son of Satan, trying to balance between the human and demon worlds? He put it back as well.

 _Wow, boring, Kaneki. Eh, maybe that one was a little too personal anyway._ He could almost imagine how she would tap her chin and grin a cheeky smile.

“Rize, why are you doing this?” Kaneki asked under his breath.

_Because it's boring back here._

She didn't speak again.

Kaneki stood in place for a moment, a little shocked with the entire exchange. That was the first of its kind. Usually she was harping at him to eat something. But this? Just two rejected book suggestions? He was shocked that this Rize in his head was even capable of something so… Casual. Normal, even. Her last comment confused him. What was she supposed to mean by that? Better yet, what was he supposed to do about it in the first place?

He left the store with a book of children’s stories. He figured, since he couldn't decide on his own replacement book, that maybe he could get another book to read with Hinami whenever he had a day off. She always seemed to enjoy it. Loser was keeping her pretty happy last he had heard, but he still wanted to contribute to her having a better mood after everything that had happened.

Maybe he should just invest in one of those e-book tablets for himself.

He was fairly content with this purchase though. It could help get him back into the rhythm of things. It took him weeks to finish the last book, when normally it only took a couple of days, and then a few after it to reread and analyze it properly. But the more he read since the accident, the more he noticed it was taking longer and longer to finish a book. He just needed to get back into the rhythm of it all. And this book would make both him _and_ a precious little girl very, very happy.

_You REALLY don't want to admit how much your life sucks, do you?_

He ignored her.

_Maybe if you just ate every once in a while, you wouldn't be so depressed._

He stopped along the sidewalk and took a backwards glance. The blurry image of her in the pedestrian crowd behind him faded quickly when his eyes met hers.

Was she really going to start that again, right now? He wasn't depressed, and he didn't need to eat. The scraps he got through Anteiku were more than enough. He didn't want to eat that crap, anyway. It never felt right. He was just in a weird situation and he needed to get his bearings straight. He could handle it eventually.

_Why do you lie to yourself like this? Why won't you admit you're upset, that you're hungry? It wouldn't hurt to just-_

“Shut up,” he hissed under his breath as he kept walking.

_Hmmmm. Someone really ought to help take care of a stubborn half-ghoul like you… You know, I've got a fantastic idea._

Kaneki rolled his eyes and lifted his phone so he could pretend he was talking on it, to avoid curious gazes from passersby. “Does it involve hurting someone?” he mumbled, unamused.

 _No- well, not entirely. But consider this: I can take care of you. I can be your system guardian~_ Her laughter was high-pitched and loud.

So she had been paying attention to his research. “No. Absolutely not,” Kaneki replied. A system guardian was meant to protect, just as the name implies. With Rize’s impulsiveness, she wasn't exactly a prime candidate.

_Suit yourself. I'll be here next time you're losing a fight with a dove._

Kaneki waited for a moment before he put the phone back in his pocket. She may have had a point. The two fights he'd had where he had to use his kagune, he wouldn't have survived if she hadn't taken some control. He was still pretty inexperienced--

No. That's exactly what she wanted him to think.

  
He was repressing her. He had to start completely ignoring her again. End of discussion.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for checking this out. This is probably going to just be a series of drabbles, but it may develop a general plot if I get far enough into it. I'm just writing it in my free time between my college classes so don't expect super-regular updates. A lot of it also comes from personal experience. If any mistakes are made because of culture differences, feel free to point it out.


	2. Hallucination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While it may have answered some questions, finding out he was literally sharing a body with someone was far from the solution to his problem. Kaneki now has to get used to the idea, and find a way to deal with the new problems that being a system brings him. Rize doesn't make it easy on him, either.  
> "Multiplicity" explores the personal headcanon that Kaneki Ken has Dissociative Identity Disorder.  
> DISCLAIMER: "Multiplicity" deals with the subject of mental illness, and is written and edited by those with those mental illnesses.

He heard her next while working behind the coffee shop counter. He was staring blankly across the room and out the window on a less-than-busy day, absent-mindedly wiping down the counter. _She’d be a good one._

He blinked, suddenly alert and aware of his surroundings. Her form appeared in the corner of his eye, blurry and sitting on the bar near him. She looked less than amused with his confusion, and she pointed. _The woman sitting at that table there._

_A good what?_ Kaneki hesitantly asked in his silent reply.

_Good meal. Easy, too, I bet. She looks like the type that's into younger men,_ Rize replied, a sharp smirk cutting across her lips. _Can't you tell she's human?_

Kaneki slapped his rag against the counter, noisily continuing his previous work, his eyes focused on the wooden surface. _Ignore her,_ he told himself.

_You can't fight it forever. You know what you should do._

_My ass, I can’t. Fuck off._ He gritted his teeth and pressed the rag harder against the bar.

_Heh, these ghouls here just spoil you, don't they… Alright, have it your way for now._ The ghost of Rize swung her legs over the bar so that she was facing behind the counter, and softly kicked her legs to and fro.

Kaneki focused heavily on the counters, ignoring her as best he could, but the vision of her was waiting for him when he glanced up to check if it was gone yet. She giggled softly, and he quickly tossed the rag under the counter and went to wash his hands. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he dried them, and when he turned around, Rize was still there, looking at the television on the wall. He almost made to follow her gaze, but caught himself, and hurriedly went back to pretending she wasn't there. She laughed slightly louder.

“What's your problem?!” he hissed under his breath.

_You’re funny when you're confused. Such a bad actor…_

“Ri--”

“Kaneki? Who are you talking to?” He whipped himself around, startled by the voice. Touka had come back to the counter with a fresh jar of coffee beans. She must've barely heard him start to retaliate.

“Oh, just thinking aloud. It's nothing,” he laughed. 

_It's boring, Kaneki…_ Kaneki glanced back to where Rize had been, only to find she had disappeared.

“Do me a favor and think about cleaning the empty tables while you’re at it, then,” Touka grumbled. Kaneki sighed and reached again for the rag under the counter.

 

* * *

 

Days passed. Days became weeks. Rize eventually fell quiet, and gave up on tossing bad ideas at Kaneki. Ignoring her only worked so well, however; if there was ever a moment where Kaneki became aware of his hunger and didn't eat anything soon after, she made herself, and her own ravenous hunger, very well known. All Kaneki could do was nibble on scraps from Anteiku, just the bare minimum of what he could stand, and hope for the best. So far, she didn't make any more attempts to take control. He was glad for that, but he was still on edge.

His fingers ran through his black hair after he dropped his eyepatch on his desk. Both eyes focused on a history book and a scrap of paper. She’d fallen quiet, but it wasn't enough for him to forget.

While it did make him anxious, it also made studying a lot easier. Maybe it was a fair trade. He dropped a sugar cube into his coffee and slowly stirred as he started jotting down some notes. At the end of every few lines he would take a sip, and then keep on.

Between each drink, there was a slight pause. His pencil would tap his paper as he hesitated for a moment. He would wait.

No voice, no response.

By the end of the night, the switch between coffee and notes was seamless. For a moment though as he took his last sip and closed his textbook, he could have sworn he had smelled the faint scent of flowers and a cool breeze…

 

* * *

 

<New forum post!>

 

K-patched posted:

Is it normal to see your alter around you at random times, like doing things as if they were literally right beside you?

 

st3llar posted:

yeah that can happen. i think some people call it projection?

 

K-patched posted:

Thanks. And what about hallucinating other things like smells? Touch? Does that happen?

 

st3llar posted:

that may just be normal hallucination stuff but if you think it has to do with your headmates then you could say that. hey, if you got more questions, IM me! im happy to help!

 

K-patched posted:

Thanks!

 

* * *

 

_Hey. Kaneki._

He tried not to drop the book he had gotten from the store shelf.

_Don't ignore me._

A chill ran up his spine, but he pretended not to have heard anything. Technically he hadn't, anyway. He flipped the book over to glance at the back cover.

_Don't ignore me, Kaneki!_

He sighed and closed his eyes. “What do you want?” he quietly asked the voice as he furrowed his brow.

_Kaneki, I'm hungry…_

“Can't do anything about that,” he breathed, opening his eyes to continue his reading. He kept the book at his side and began to browse other titles.

_Like hell you can't! Please, just one, maybe two--_

“No. I'm not eating more than I need,” he whispered. “Leave me alone.”

_You need_ more _than just scraps every few weeks!_ I _need more!_

“It doesn't matter what you need. I don't need more,” he sighed. “Besides. You tried to eat me. Why would I feed you now, anyway?”

_Don't forget whose fucking organs you have, brat._ Kaneki froze for a moment, and could almost feel the soft touch of a girl’s hand on his shoulder. _Don't let them wither, or we both are going to have a problem._

“Stop it. I'm perfectly fine.”

Rize laughed loudly. _Alright. Fine. Have it your way._ The hand left his shoulder. _Just don't miss any meals. I have barely even begun to show you the meaning of hunger._

“I won't. But no more than what I need."

_Yeah. Whatever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More small writings! Things will pick up more speed and get more interesting in the next "chapter", I promise. Still just introducing the small stuff here and admittedly still getting used to writing fics at all. Been a while.


	3. Impulse

Kaneki rolled over in his bed, electing to ignore the knocking at the door. The curtains were drawn, and only a sliver of grey light reached him from the cloudy sky outside. His head felt fuzzy, felt dull. His stomach felt worse.

Another series of knocks, this time slightly louder, echoed from the apartment entrance. Kaneki put a pillow over his head. He didn't want to get up. It felt too early. No, it felt late. No, it did feel early-- oh, who was he kidding, he didn't know what time it felt like. It barely existed to him. His bed was the only thing he really seemed sure of right now. He pressed the pillow against his face, wrapped it to his ears, and groaned. Maybe if he was quiet, whoever was at the door would go away.

His ears rang after another knock hit his door, this one far more forceful and accompanied by a muffled voice. Slowly he forced himself up. His head rushed and vision blurred as he stumbled around, and as he rubbed his eyes he glanced around for his eyepatch. Another knock. “Ah, shit-- I'm coming, I'm coming, please be patient,” he called out, startled for a moment. He abandoned the search for the eyepatch and made his way to the door. Shaking hands fumbled with the locks as he tried to open it. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, one hand still drowsily rubbing his left eye. Finally the door cracked open, and he stuck his head through to see his visitor. “I’m sorry, I must've slept in-- huh?”

“I'm sorry to come over unannounced, but I got a message that you hadn't shown up for work today,” said the silver-haired man before him. “I figured that everyone wanted someone to check on you.”

“Oh. Yomo, that's fine, I'm good,” Kaneki said with a soft chuckle, and slowly his hand dropped from his face. “Touka can hit me for it later… Sorry I didn't call in.”

“I thought you said you slept in?” Yomo raised an eyebrow.

Kaneki froze. “Well, I did, but I meant…”

“Are you sure you're alright?”

Kaneki looked at his feet, and slowly backed away, opening the door a little wider. “You wanna come in for a bit? I can make you some coffee. I'd hate if you came all this way for nothing.”

Yomo’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he gave a polite nod before stepping inside. Kaneki felt his gaze on his back as he turned, letting Yomo remove his shoes before leading him to the kitchen.

“So. What's going on,” the older man asked, leaning against the wall as Kaneki pulled a jar of coffee grinds from the cabinet.

“I don't know. Just needed some time off I think,” Kaneki grumbled as he leaned over the coffee machine.

“Sure,” Yomo said flatly. “What else.”

“Ha, still not used to you talking this much-”

“Kaneki Ken. Don't divert the subject,” Yomo said, the slightest of hisses flashing across his tongue. It sent a shiver up Kaneki’s spine.

He turned around to face his guest, and sighed. “Okay. Alright. Sorry,” he breathed. “Look, honestly, I really don’t want to talk about it… but Rize’s getting a lot worse.”

The older ghoul nodded and crossed his arms. “Mm. I see,” he sighed. “Do you think she’ll…?”

Kaneki held a finished mug of coffee out to Yomo, but flinched as his words trailed off. He didn’t hear the rest. His eyes shot to Yomo’s midsection, and his grip on the mug’s handle tightened until his knuckles were white and his hands no longer held themselves steady. The world felt numb to him, and his eyes felt fixed upon this one spot in space.

“Ken. Look at me, look me in the eyes,” Yomo said, his voice quickly dropped to a much gentler tone. He reached forward and slowly took the shaking mug away from Kaneki, and continued softly, “Focus. It’s okay.”

Kaneki shook his head quickly, and looked back up at Yomo with a dazed expression. “Wha- Oh. Sorry,” he breathed.

Yomo took a slow sip of the coffee, and let the mug hover at his lips for a moment before he spoke again. “It’s fine,” he said. “I think I know my answer. Let’s  try not to worry much about it for now.” He set the mug down on the counter. “You should take a few days off. Rest a little, don’t worry about the shop, I’ll handle letting everyone know for you.”

“Won’t they ask why?” asked Kaneki.

“Probably, but I won’t tell them any more than you want me to,” Yomo replied. “I’ll make sure they know it’s personal. With all that’s happened with you recently, I’m sure they’ll understand. But I think you need time to yourself. To straighten things out.”

Kaneki hesitated, and let out a heavy breath as he lowered his head. “Okay. You’re probably right. Maybe it’ll give me some time to figure out what to do about…” He paused.

“About what?”

“Uh, it’s nothing,” Kaneki laughed. “Just some impulses.”

“Hunger, or Rize?”

Kaneki looked to the side, avoiding eye contact as he shrugged.

Yomo’s eyes narrowed, and he paused thoughtfully. “Alright, I won’t poke you,” he said. He grabbed the coffee mug from the counter and took another swig from it. “I should get going, not overstay my welcome. Tomorrow I can bring you something to eat, but other than that…” He stood up straight, away from the wall, and softly patted his hand on Kaneki’s shoulder. “Just take it easy for a while.”

Kaneki nodded in silent understanding, staring blankly at the floor. He contemplated on a reply for a moment, but as soon as he thought of something to say, he heard a door close, and his eyes jerked upwards to find Yomo had already left. He glanced to the counter. The mug was there, still over half full, barely steaming still. He made to pick it up and rinse it out.

_ Hmpf. Didn’t even finish that coffee you made for him… _

A shock ran through his spine, and he became stiff. The mug dropped from his grasp, and it crashed in the sink with a loud clatter and splashed coffee across the counter. The noise stunned him for a moment. When Rize’s voice didn’t return, Kaneki took to cleaning up his mess.

He really hadn’t wanted to talk about it, but things had been getting worse. When she spoke, he couldn’t move for brief moments. Sometimes it was extremely difficult to tell the difference between her thoughts and his. She was getting to him. It probably would have been a good idea to tell Yomo, have at least someone else be aware. Have the one person that knew be aware of what was going on, what might happen. Kaneki sighed and lowered his head over the sink. Honestly, though? Yomo probably already knew. He definitely acted like he did. He hadn’t finished his question about Rize, but he seemed to feel like he’d gotten the answer he needed based on Kaneki’s reaction. He ran his hand through his hair. Yomo never needed to finish his question. Kaneki never heard the rest of it, but part of him knew the question anyway.  _ Do you think she’ll take over again? _

A sick feeling washed over him, unease radiating outwards from his stomach. He didn’t want to think about what she might do if she ever did again. The small reminders of what he’d -- no, the reminders of what  _ she  _ ’d done before were already bad enough.. He didn’t understand how Yomo could possibly act so calm about any of this. Maybe it was because Yomo was more of a ghoul than him. He was probably used to far worse by now.

 

* * *

 

 

He’d gotten better at blocking her out and not responding to her, thanks to time off and the time to focus that came with it, but unfortunately that had its own set of consequences.

He found himself staring blankly into the window of a small clothes shop. At first he really didn’t seem to think much, or feel much, about this action. Honestly, he wasn’t thinking at all. Everything had gone silent for him. By the time he started to hear things around him again, his thoughts gradually came back to him. He was staring at a dress, a beautiful light pink floral creation draped over a dramatically posed mannequin. He blinked a few times, and then gently shook his head. That was weird. It was a pretty dress, but he didn’t care much for dresses. He was more than happy with things actually designed for his own gender. But for some reason, as he walked away, he almost felt disappointed.

He clutched at the strap of his bag as he walked down the sidewalk, avoiding any accidental eye contact by staring at the ground. However, every once in a while, his uncovered eye would shoot upwards and quickly scan over the crowd. It was hard not to people-watch today. Something about the people walking by him cried out for his attention, his evaluation. The woman in front of him in the striped shirt, she was walking too slowly compared to everyone else. Another woman, wherever she was in the crowd, was wearing an obnoxious fragrance. She was one person he didn’t care to get closer to. The man that just raced past him had a larger build, Kaneki almost stared for a moment. Realizing that he must have looked rude to anyone that noticed him, he looked back to the ground. No one had seen him.

Something wet dripped from his lip and down his chin. He wiped it away instinctively and continued walking. In his head, he scolded himself for being a slob. It was his second day off from work at Anteiku, the least he could do was keep himself in one piece. His eyes fixated on a man farther ahead of him, talking on his cellphone. Kaneki’s pace picked up, the rhythm of his feet barely reaching his own ears. His feet ached, his calves strained, and his hand shot out in front of him, inches from the man’s shoulder-- Kaneki caught himself. He stood like a statue as he watched the man continue walking, having not noticed him. Slowly, he lowered his hand back to his side, and he rubbed at his palms. Were impulses starting to skip straight from idea to action? He wiped his lip again, and looked blankly at his wet sleeve for a thoughtless moment. Thoughts slowly came to him several long seconds after. His eyebrows furrowed, and he bit the inside of his lip.

It was time to go home. Immediately.

_ It doesn’t really make any sense,  _ he told himself during the trek back home. Weren’t things supposed to get easier if he ignored her? A hand rested over his stomach, just at the base of his ribs. Was this her doing?

_ You can’t tell the difference anymore, can you? _

He unlocked the door. It just didn’t make sense. He sighed as he closed the door behind him and made a beeline for his bed. Kaneki dropped like a dead weight, limbs sprawled out in his exhaustion. He sat like this for a moment, then rolled over onto his back. What was he doing wrong? He was ignoring her. He hadn’t heard her in nearly two days, so he figured he was doing an excellent job. But the random impulses hadn’t gone away. The warnings had. It was harder to stop himself without the warnings. But just  _ what  _ was he doing  _ WRONG? _

He cast his eyepatch aside and rubbed at his eyes. With them closed, he barely noticed the sudden sensitivity to the light he had, from having one eye covered all day. With them closed, he felt like he had a moment to relax. Sound drowned away. He was tired. He was very tired. That thought, too, faded away, and his breathing slowed. An afternoon nap couldn’t be too bad.

 

* * *

 

 

She yawned as she opened her eyes and rolled out of bed. She paused for a moment, took in her surroundings, and then shrugged inwardly. It wasn’t the first time she had woken up in an unfamiliar place. A full stomach sometimes had a bad habit of making one sleepy, so why not rest in someone’s bed after treating herself to dinner? Only this time she could tell she hadn’t eaten. It felt like she hadn’t eaten in several weeks. That wasn’t normal for her.

She stepped over the mess of the bedroom floor. Someone hadn’t bothered to pick up their things… Her reflection caught her attention in the mirror on the wall, and she turned to look at herself. She didn’t remember these clothes. Where had she put her dress? Her eyes caught her own, and she pouted. Maybe it wasn’t a mirror? She must still be a little dazed from such a deep nap.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oi, been sitting on this chapter for a while, haven't been too happy with it but couldn't figure out why, so I'm just gonna post it for all the lovely folk that just flooded me with Kudos this month. Because content is content. And everyone loves updates. 
> 
> I ain't a hot shot for my fanfics, drawing is more of my forte, but thanks for reading.


	4. Identity

No, it was definitely a mirror.

She must have been staring for the longer half of a minute, blinking at the reflection, watching her lips quiver, her fingers twitch, watching each micromovement as she tried to process the information.

What had she done to her fucking hair? What was she wearing? Why did she-- Why did she look like  _ that _ ? Was she dreaming? Or had she always looked like this? Something wasn’t right. That wasn’t her face. It wasn’t the face she remembered. Nor was the short, dark hair, nor the eyes. Nothing about her reflection felt like hers, but she couldn’t quite place any concrete reason to the feeling. Her hands moved in the reflection as they should, her teeth bared in a forced smile just as they should. She couldn’t hardly remember what she was supposed to look like, only that this wasn’t it. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember much of anything. Why was she here, like this? Where had she been earlier in the day? Earlier that week? Month, year? She had a vague memory of some sort of date, a vague memory about that face that was apparently hers, but it, too, felt strange.

Her stomach growled loudly; there were more pressing matters than trying to piece together her memory. If there were two things she knew for certain, it was her name, and that Rize Kamishiro never let herself go hungry.

She figured the place and any of its contents were as good as hers. She took the liberty of changing to something nicer-- honestly, it was just a clean shirt and a nice jacket from the closet; seriously, where was that dress?-- and taking a bag from the bedroom floor. She made note of a medical eyepatch on the floor near the bed, and shoved it and a few fallen books into the bag in a half-assed effort to clean up the mess around her.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun was setting as she left the little home. An afternoon nap never hurt anyone, but she questioned why she’d take one instead of immediately finding food. She was starving, or at least in her warped definition. Ghouls ate very little as a general principle, but her? She was always hungry.

The streets were, thankfully, far from empty, even with evening setting in. It was simply a matter of making up her mind, and being careful about it. She could always pull the hem of her shirt a little lower, try and catch a passing glance as she walked-- No, wait, that wouldn’t work. What was she thinking? She put a hand over her eyes and sighed loudly. This was ridiculous. She felt like she was supposed to playing up assets that she just didn’t have. She couldn’t be playing the damsel, the modest but eager virginal girl, not like this. Just thinking about it made her feel sick. None of this was hers, and yet…

“Hey!!” Someone shouted loudly behind her. At first she’d ignored it, but then she felt a hand on her shoulder. Quickly she turned around, and came face to face with a young man with blonde hair and darker roots. And a tacky-colored jacket.

“Kaneki! Didn’t think I’d be seeing you out here!... Oh, is your eye better?” 

“I’m… I’m sorry? What?” Rize breathed, eyes wide in confusion. “You’ve got me confused with someone else--”

“You’re not wearing your eyepatch tonight!” the boy laughed, cutting her off before he could even begin to process what she’d said. “Did you forget about it?”

“Oh!” Rize suddenly remembered the eyepatch she had shoved hastily into her bag. “Uh, no, I just didn’t feel like wearing it.” This boy acted like he knew her. The name he’d called her felt almost familiar. It wasn’t hers, but if he had her confused with a friend of his, she could pretend it was. It was a convenient mistake. He may never live it down. She almost wanted to lick her lips and praise her luck.

“Well, it looks fine to me, is it just sensitive to light? If it’s dark out, I guess it’s okay, Kaneki,” he said with a shrug. “But if you’re supposed to wear it…”

“Forget the eyepatch,” she laughed, playfully nudging him. “Hey, where are you headed, anyway?”

“Home, actually. I’ve got to study for an exam,” he said. “If you want, you can come with! I could actually use some help with a few things.”

She smiled. “Actually--” 

She suddenly caught herself.  _ Don’t you dare touch him, Rize _ . She hesitated. Was that like her conscious or something? “-- Actually, I can’t. I was honestly going to grab something to eat and head back home. It’s been a long day, uh…” She glanced toward his backpack, catching a brief view of a “if lost, return to owner” tag, “... Hide. Maybe some other time?”

“Oh, yeah. Text me a day that’s good for you, maybe we can hang out after you get off work?” Hide smiled as he began to walk past her. “It was good seeing you!”

“Good seeing you, too,” she said softly, turning to face the building beside her. That was weird. She never let a meal get away like that. What the hell was she thinking? Her guts twisted together, and she frowned bitterly. What an odd thing to suddenly think. It didn’t even feel like her. But whatever. That kid was on the small side, anyway.

The longer she thought on it, the more the name he’d called her felt familiar. Kaneki.  _ Kaneki, Kaneki, Kaneki…  _ She gasped quietly.  _ Kaneki Ken!  _ She was supposed to have gone on a date with him! She remembered now. She’d met him at the little coffee shop she’d liked ever since she’d moved to this ward. He was funny, a bit too easy to reel in with his obvious crush, but she was happy to humor him. He wasn’t too bad, after all; He wasn’t really her type to  _ truly  _ date or anything, but he was kinda cute with those shy eyes--

_ Holy shit. _ That was the face she’d seen in the mirror. That was the friend that Hide mistook her for. It was always him.  _ That’s…. That’s really fucked up,  _ she thought as she leaned against the wall. She couldn’t really begin to process it. How could she? You don’t just suddenly end up trapped in the body of someone you apparently failed to kill. Her shoulders tensed, and she almost swore she felt a sharp pain across her body, could almost swear she heard steel clashing on steel. Ugh. She didn’t even want to know what happened on that fake date. Maybe all of this was just some sort of sick dream. Her mind felt incredibly numb. There was no way this was really happening, right?

She caught a sudden scent in the air, a whiff of perfume from the pedestrians walking past her. Oh, god, that was tempting. Her stomach clenched painfully, and her tongue pressed the back of her teeth eagerly as she straightened her back and made off to follow the scent. She all but forgot whatever she had been thinking about moments before as she approached the woman in front of her. Bumping into her was calculated, and the smile she flashed her as she picked her phone from the ground was precise. “Oh, crap, I’m sorry! Hey, did you drop this?...”

Everything that came after was little more than a blur across her memory.

She licked the blood from her fingers, humming happily to herself with each taste. Finally. A decent meal. She couldn’t quite remember if she’d played with the woman a little beforehand, made her wait for it like a cat makes its mouse wait for it to end, but none of that mattered now. She’d had her fill. She picked some flesh from between her teeth with her fingernail, and looked down at her clothes. She’d been careful, apparently. There was minimal blood spatter, nothing that couldn’t be explained away as an old stain. She sighed deeply as she savored the taste that was left on her tongue. Oh, she was never going to let herself put food aside for as long as she had ever again. She caught glimpse of her reflection in some broken glass that lay at her knees. One eye, but only one, was red and black. Her lip curled upwards in disgust. That just wasn’t right. Something had to be wrong with the other eye.

Footsteps. Rize flinched, and head jerked to the side so she could look over her shoulder. Has someone seen her? Her eyes landed on a larger man approaching from the shadows. Once he could see her clearly, he stopped. He didn’t seem shocked, no. Confused, but not shocked. Oh, what did it matter. She recognized him fairly well. “Fuck, Yomo, have you really lost all your manners…?” she growled, turning back to her meal. “I’m not done yet. Leave me alone.”

His expression fell ever so slightly as he continued to approach her. “What are you doing out here? Come on, we need to leave,” he said firmly.

She turned her head over her shoulder vaguely towards him, one finger raised to her bottom lip to wipe away a stray blood spatter from her chin. “I don't know what you want, but can't you see I'm busy?... You're killing my buzz.”

“Ken.”

She froze for a moment, and her hand fell from her chin. She turned to face him directly. “I thought you Anteiku ghouls had some sense of respect,” she grumbled as she slowly stood up.

“Ken. Come back.” Yomo’s voice had fallen to a degree of gentleness that she wasn't aware existed. 

“ _ I’m not Kaneki! _ ” she hissed loudly as she took a forceful step towards him. Hair fell in her eyes. Hair that still felt too short, one eye that felt so unnatural, didn't catch the light properly. Bloodstained teeth clenched and she felt a pang in her too-flat chest as once more she spoke: “I'm… I'm not Kaneki.”

“I know you aren't,” Yomo admitted with a heavy sigh. “But he needs to come back. You shouldn’t--” There was a sound of faint sirens in the distance.  _ Fuck! _ Had someone seen her come back here and attack this sad sack of a corpse? Her eyes darted from each end of the alleyway and to Yomo. He glanced back in their direction, and promptly grabbed at something in the inside pocket of his coat. A beaked mask. “Rize. Do you still have his bag?” he asked.

“.... Yeah. I think I do,” she said, hesitating before leaving the corpse to look around. She found the bag stashed behind a dumpster.

“Open it. Find his mask, and wear it. We can talk about this later, but we need to leave, now. And if they see you, your face…” He narrowed his eyes as he slipped on his own mask. “... they're going to hold him accountable. Don't do that to him. You've done enough.”

 

“Fuck you too, sir,” she grumbled under her breath. Rize slipped the bag over her shoulders and retrieved the mass of leather from its largest pocket. One hand subconsciously touched her face. She hated these reminders that it simply wasn't her own, but she was too tired to argue with it, to even try to convince herself it wasn’t real. With a defeated sigh, she buckled the mask into place. At least it covered that defective eye… “Fine. Lead the way, big guy.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You know, you’ve really kinda been following us around these last few days. You really ought to back off,” Rize suddenly piped up as the two of them walked quietly across the rooftop. 

“I’m sorry?” Yomo exhaled.

It took a while for her to really realize what she’d said, and to realize that some part of her, deep down, vaguely remembered the past week. She tried to focus on it. “You keep showing up at really odd times,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’m going to be honest, I really only remember this stuff vaguely. But it feels like you’re following me, and you really need to back off and leave me, leave us, alone.”

Yomo lifted his mask away from his face, one eyebrow raised at Rize. “And what, just let you get into trouble?” he asked.

“Uh, yes!” she hissed, furiously nodding her head. “If that’s your slang for letting me live my life, then yes!”

“Have you not been listening to anything I’ve been telling you?” he sighed, lowering his mask over his face again. “It’s not just your life anymore. You’re sharing it now, and you’ve got to show a little more restraint, or you’re going to get Ken into some deep--”

“Like I care.”

“You should. If they get him, they get you too, now. You both share the consequences now, because as far as anyone else knows, you don’t exist. Only Ken does. And he’s, frankly, a little inexperienced.”

Rize paused. “Oh.”

“‘Oh’ is right,” Yomo huffed, stopping at the edge of the roof. “I think we’ve lost them. You can take off that mask if you want.”

“Thank god, this thing is stuffy!” she sighed with relief as she sat down on the edge beside Yomo. The mask was off in seconds, and she slipped it quickly into the bag. “I always hated masks…”

“You’re going to have to put up with it from now on, though. I won’t stop you from hunting if this sort of thing happens again, but you need to be more careful…”

“I know, I know, because I’ll put Kaneki at risk, I know. You don’t have to say it again,” Rize pouted. “This sucks.”

“How do you think Ken feels about it?”

She hadn’t really thought about that. She narrowed her eyes. Rize didn’t care about how Kaneki felt, why would she? If he’d just died that night, she wouldn’t be stuck in this situation. Him, with her organs… It made her skin crawl just thinking about it. She crossed her legs and looked down at her hands. Kaneki’s hands. “Why do you call him by his first name, anyway? Nobody does that,” Rize asked, briefly looking up at Yomo.

Yomo looked down at her as he removed his mask. He was silent for a moment as he pondered her question. “I guess I do it  _ because  _ no one else does,” he said with a shrug. “He's a good kid. He deserves to feel close to someone.” 

Rize turned her hands - his hands, she told herself, not her hands - over to look at their palms, examining every pad and crease, every callus and vein. 

“He deserves to feel  _ safe _ ,” Yomo added, stressing his words. When she looked up again, his eyes met hers and pierced into her, having been staring at her like a hawk when she refused to look at him. Her heart nearly leapt from her chest with a sharp pang. She wrung her hands together before looking down and resting the palms against her knees once more. Had she done something wrong? Okay, maybe she’d done several things wrong. But she was surviving. That's all she was doing. She couldn't have been wrong in that. She was right. She always was right. She had to survive. They both did, didn't they?

“Try to be gentler on him when he comes to again.” Yomo stood slowly. “He's no more used to any of this than you are.” 

He turned to leave, but Rize shot up and spoke up. “What about me? You're not… Angry?”

Yomo glanced back over his shoulder. “Miss Rize, even if I was, I wouldn’t do anything.”

“Why not?”

He ignored her question. “Give me his phone,” he told her as he turned to face her again, and held out his hand. She rummaged through the bag until she found it, and tossed it over. He clicked around on it hastily before gently handing it back. “Make sure Ken knows I’m giving him my contact information. He won’t remember anything when he wakes up again. As for you… I know it isn’t exactly fair to ask you to pretend to be him all of the time, but unfortunately, that’s what I have to do. But you can talk to me without needing to hide anything, if you ever need to. I’m going to refrain from passing any judgements until I see what you become this time around, anyway.”

He left before she could utter another word. She brought one hand to her chest, gently closed against her sternum. When she turned over Kaneki’s phone in her hand, she could still see the new contact page pulled up on the screen.

“Hm. Didn't know your name was Renji…” she said softly to herself before putting the phone back into the bag on her shoulder.

 

* * *

 

 

When Kaneki opened his eyes again, it was morning, and his room was oddly cleaner than he remembered leaving it. He didn’t remember wearing pajamas to bed, either. He’d only meant to nap, not sleep the entire night. He stood up and stretched. Every muscle was sore and ached for him to lay back down, to rest and recover from some unknown physical strain. He blinked, caught off guard by the dull pain, and wondered for a brief second what all he had forgotten. His heart suddenly dropped from his chest. The last time he lost chunks of time like this-- Shit. What had he done? What had  _ she  _ done?

He quickly made his way to the door only to find a note taped to it. He didn’t remember this being here, either. Kaneki gently removed it from the door and held it, examining the handwriting. It was soft, round, and precise, like someone had taken a lot of care in their penmanship. Like a girl might. There were small doodles of flowers and a black goat in the bottom corner. His jaw clenched and his hands felt cold as he read:

 

_ Kaneki, _

_ I’m putting this note where I know you can’t miss it. Yomo told me to fill you in on some things, since you won’t remember anything. _

_ Your stomach is very full now. You’re welcome. You’ll feel a lot better for a while now. No, nothing horrible happened, and it was only one body. Yomo made sure of it. I think he’s stalking us. (I’m kidding. Kind of.) His number is in your phone now, too. He’s serious about having you talk to him about this stuff when you need help. _

_ You need to talk to me more. I couldn’t remember anything about our “situation” when I was awake, Yomo had to explain a lot of it to me. I want to say it’s because you keep blocking me out. If any of this is going to work out, you need to talk to me. We need to fill each other in better, especially when these switches happen, even if it’s just by leaving notes like this. Maybe then we could at least fake remembering things.  _

_ Also: Who is Hide? He says hi and that you should meet up sometime. _

_ Kamishiro Rize _

 

Kaneki sat dumbfounded for a second. That was surprisingly civil, and surprisingly wasn’t horrible news. His best memories of her were generally the least pleasant, so seeing her actually act almost human was oddly relieving. Shivers ran through his spine to think that she had killed someone, that she had eaten someone. It felt like, in a way, he had been force-fed again. It felt violating. But it could have been worse. It could have been much, much worse.

Wait. She’d talked to Hide? “Rize, did you--”

_ Ugh, no, I didn’t hurt him. Read the note! I’m trying to sleep… _

“Oh. Sorry.” Kaneki paused. Why was he apologizing to a voice in his head? Voices didn’t sleep. He laughed a little to himself, and scanned over the note again. “Maybe I am going a little crazy…” he muttered to himself. He folded up the note and set it down on his desk before heading to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. He thought he might go back to work today, especially if Rize was determined to “sleep” her day away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoi everyone. Update on the personal stuffs, I'm living on my own now. I also have an official Crazy Person badge after a stay at the hospital (no, I will not be exploring mental wards in this fic). If you ever want updates on me, my life, and my work, just shoot me a message.  
> Thanks everyone for sticking around this far. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you enjoy the many more that are yet to come!


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